


Never Parted

by NatatBlue



Series: Space and Time [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatatBlue/pseuds/NatatBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Spock try to figure out their new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Parted

**Author's Note:**

> Star Trek, Kirk and Spock, the Starship Enterprise, and everything else in the Star Trek Universe is the property of CBS and Paramount Pictures. I own nothing, and I will carefully put my toys back on the shelf after playing with them.

**Never Parted**

Kirk listened to the quiet rhythm of Spock’s breathing. Even in sleep, the Vulcan was silent, dignified, almost invisible. For an individual who wielded power with only a flicker of his dark eyes, Kirk didn’t understand his reticence, his willingness to stand behind others. Kirk was captain of a starship, one of the powerful, one of the arrogant if he were half honest with himself. 

Honesty, self-examination, emotional cauldrons, everything had been laid bare before him. It was receding now, the tendrils of the mating meld dissipating with the heat of the fires. Spock had promised that it would lessen, become almost invisible, especially for Kirk without the gift of telepathy. He should be overjoyed that he was free again, but, instead, he clawed for the threads of what had been a vibrant and gushing river. 

“Jim.”

Spock’s voice was rich and deep and sent a shudder through Kirk’s frame.

“You are upset. It is only the breaking of the Plak Tow. It will pass.”

“No!” Kirk kicked the thin coverlet off and jumped from the bed. “Don’t you pull away. Don’t you do this to me.” He was probably ranting. He knew he was pacing, but he couldn’t stop his feet, back and forth across the narrow cabin. “I gave it to you. Don’t take it away.”

“Captain, Jim.” Spock sat upright in the bed and pulled a blood red tunic over his head. 

In the half light of a starship night, he looked diabolical, the legends of the past alive and close, and all Kirk could think was he longed for that hand on his skin again, that touch that went all the way to his soul. All he knew was that his body and mind demanded he worship this creature. He was ensnared, and he only wanted to go deeper, to give everything, to lose everything.

“Captain, you are distraught.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kirk shouted back. “You did this. You made me like this. What do I do?” Kirk slammed his fist into the wall. He wanted to slam his head into it, but was stopped by a demanding warning that came from somewhere he couldn’t hear or see, but somehow could feel. 

“Sit down. Do not damage yourself.”

Kirk sat, his body dropping to the narrow bed, his hands folding into his lap. His knuckles hurt; he could see the scrapes and knew bruises would follow. Bones would yell at him.

“Spock, what is happening?”

“It is the mating bond.”

“You said it would dissipate. You said the effects would be minimal except during the Plak Tow.”

“I miscalculated.” 

“You miscalculated.” Kirk could hear the sarcasm and hysteria in his voice.

“I assumed you would want to weaken the bond.”

“Of course I do. I don’t want to be subject to your beck and call. I’m the captain. I’m responsible for over four hundred souls.”

“I know, Jim. You pride yourself on your independence. I counted on that.” Spock fell silent, his dark eyes studying Kirk, seeing to drink him in and swallow him.

“I do.” Kirk pulled up his legs, clutching them, feeling cold in Spock’s over heated cabin. Did Spock know what he’d been thinking? He missed the caress of Spock’s mind, the cool, disciplined logic against his hot passions. He missed…he missed yielding to him, giving to his master. No, he was a starship captain. He wasn’t weak. He was his own master.

“You want a master.”

Spock was always so blunt. He’d never learned to tell white lies or ease into difficult subjects. He just said it, and the truth battered against Kirk. Master, mastered, he couldn’t. He was Captain Kirk. Nothing intimidated him: not the admiralty, not the Klingons, not vaporizing stars, and he wanted to do nothing but close his eyes and let it happen. 

“I can be that.”

Kirk’s head dropped to his chest, and he drew in air through his nostrils. He shook his head. He had to say no.

“Jim.” Spock had shifted on the bed. His hand rested over Kirk’s shoulder, away from the meld points, but still the contact brightened everything. “You must tell me.”

“Spock, I can’t.” Kirk knew it was more a wail than a declaration. His skin buzzed; all he wanted was to fold himself inside his master.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh, God, yes!” Kirk tore himself off the bed and fled to the other side of the cabin. What had he said? Where were his clothes? He shouldn’t be having this conversation in his skivvies.

“You can have it.”

“I can’t. You know damn well I can’t. How can I be the captain and subject to your whims?” Kirk balled his hands into fists. He pressed his shoulders against the the wall and tried to slow his heart rate and control his breathing. “Spock, you’re the logical one. Stop this.”

“Captain, I am doing nothing. You are torturing yourself.”

“Spock.” Kirk fisted his own hair, jerking his head up with the savage pain. “You said—“

“Come here, my t’hy’la.”

Spock’s words couldn’t be refused. Kirk crossed the floor and slumped against the bed, his back pressed to Spock’s legs. Somewhere it rattled around in his brain that Spock didn’t like to be touched. Somewhere in the raging of his mind, he knew he was on the floor with Spock above him, but it didn’t matter. He needed to be close. He could feel the heat of Spock’s body; he could feel the long fingers that rested on his shoulders, branding his skin as the thumb stroked his neck.

“Spock,” Kirk whispered, his head falling forward.

“Mine.”

The bond between them opened, the flood of images that was Spock: his father, his mother’s smile, the Vulcan desert, a flood of figures and mathematical symbols, his captain, corn fields in Iowa, apple pie, Gary Mitchell.

Kirk shuddered. He twisted in Spock’s arms and looked up. Spock’s eyes were on him, contemplative, unmoving, seeing all.

“Together, never parted,” Spock recited the ancient words.

“I…” Kirk stuttered.

“The bond is both ways. I did not think it possible with a non telepath. I never asked my father; I only assumed.”

“What does this mean?” Kirk had been panicked earlier, but now with the bond fully open, he was curious, not panicked. He had Spock’s logic and calculations. His friend always knew a way out. His friend was always there. His lover, Kirk let the word roll around in his mind. 

“We are one, the mated pair. It is as it was during the last week.”

“I am the captain. I can’t—“

“You also cannot live parted,” Spock interrupted. His fingers played on Kirk’s neck in a way that made ranting impossible. “I have no desire to be captain. Humans find me incomprehensible.”

“Spock, whoever heard of a submissive starfleet captain?” The words were out. He could hear his breath in his ears, harsh and desperate pants. He jammed his eyelid shut, blinking back stinging tears. He wasn’t going to add to his humiliation by crying. All his life he’d dreamed of being captain. Even as a small boy when most of his peers wanted to be firemen or baseball players, he knew he was going to Starfleet Academy. And now this. He was at his first officer’s feet. 

“Calm yourself.” Spock’s voice rumbled in Kirk’s ear. Hot fingers traced down his neck. “I will not bed you on the bridge.”

“Spock!” Kirk’s voice rose in indignation.

“I am afraid your irreverence is wearing off on me, my friend.”

“Are you teasing me?” Kirk jumped to his feet. Was Spock smiling? His lips hadn’t moved, but his eyes danced in his face, playing, mocking, loving. “Spock.” Kirk pushed Spock, sending them both tumbling onto the bed.

His head hit the blanket; his arms were caught. Teeth worried the skin on the edge of his neck, nips between pain and pleasure.

“Do not forget your place. If you tease me, we may put on a show.” Spock’s tongue licked a line down Kirk’s neck. “Should I mark you?”

“Spock, you can’t. They’ll see.” Kirk squirmed against Spock’s strength.

“We have all seen evidence of your misbegotten love affairs before. You have not been a celibate man.”

“Not with my first officer. The chain of command.”

“You want this.” Spock lipped Kirk’s neck. “You want the world to know.”

“I don’t,” Kirk cried.

“The bond is open. You cannot lie to me.”

“I can’t.” Kirk knew his voice was a whine or a wail. He wanted. Spock was right; he wanted. He wanted more than anything since the gold shirt. 

“Your admiralty is not ready to see the captain of their starship Enterprise standing behind his first officer with marks of possession on his skin. Vulcans are integral to the Federation, but we are not always seen as friends. I know that, Captain, and I will not harm you. I am your shield and your sword, as you are mine. I am not your noose.”

“Spock.” Kirk sat up and ran his hand over his face. “God, Spock, I want it. I want it all.”

“I know, Jim.” Spock feathered a finger down Kirk’s face. “My mother is of Earth. There is much she cannot show, and she is neither a man nor a starship captain. I will not breach your confidences. If you tease, I will take what is my due once we are in private.”

“I want that. I want you to take.”

“I know, t’hy’la.” Spock stroked two fingers down Kirk’s cheek. “I will take, and I will give. I will be at your side and at your back, my captain. You are not alone.”

Kirk caught Spock’s fingers, intwining them in his own. “Together.”

“Yes.” Spock bent forward and kissed the top of Kirk’s head. “It is my mother’s compassion and illogic that guides my father in negotiations as much as his strength and logic. He is the only senior Federation diplomat who is Vulcan.”

“Your mother…” Kirk knew he didn’t have to finish the sentence. Spock was touching him; he would see his thoughts.

“The final decision is my father’s. He chose to punish me when I left Vulcan, and she was powerless beyond her considerable abilities of persuasion to stop it. Jim, she accepts that. She made her choice.”

Kirk stared into Spock’s quiet eyes, unfathomable pools into the enigma of his soul. “And I made mine.”

“You did.”

Kirk lowered his head and swallowed the dryness in his throat. “You tried to let me go.”

“I did.”

“I refused,” Kirk said, his voice only a whisper.

“You have always been stubborn.”

“I know.” 

“It is not a sin. Stubbornness is a valuable trait for a starship captain.”

“But…”

“I can manage it. I am not without my own stubbornness. You can ask my father. I do not yield easily.”

“But to me…You are my first officer. You obeyed me.”

“You are my t’hy’la, my other half. I gave you my loyalty, and you will always have it. I obey, but I also command.” Spock touched Kirk’s chest and forehead. “Here, my t’hy’la. Out there is yours. Do you understand?”

“I’m trying.”

“It will come..” Spock stood up. “Now we must be Starfleet officers again. “Dress, Captain. I do not want to face Dr. McCoy in my underclothes. He is bad enough when I am fully dressed.”

“Spock!”

“I told you the bond is both ways. I find myself more impulsive with my words.”

“Duly noted, Commander,” Kirk said in his beast imitation of a dry command voice. Two could play at this game, and he the great Captain Kirk was no pushover.

 

 

 

 


End file.
